


just one small thing

by darlingofdots



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Body Sharing, F/F, POV Second Person, Pre-Canon, look none of this is very healthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29493786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingofdots/pseuds/darlingofdots
Summary: Maybe that’s why you didn’t question it when she kissed you like that, but I felt it even down there in the depths of you; I felt the weight of that kiss and you did not and I wanted you gone, in that moment, like I never have before. But you wouldn’t let me, and you didn’t understand, so I could do nothing.
Relationships: Gideon the First/Wake | Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead, Pyrrha Dve/Wake | Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	just one small thing

She’s hiding something from us.

I don’t think you’ve noticed yet, because for all your dogged, single-minded determination to hunt her down, you can be spectacularly unobservant. I should know. I’ve been hiding from you for millennia.

But the last time I saw her, she fucked me until we were both sore and when she fell asleep, she curled in on us and didn’t stir until the ventilation kicked in three hours later to suck away the fug of sweat and cigarette smoke and her fourth orgasm, and even then she didn’t kick me out yet, just went to the sanicell to clean up and came back wearing your shirt. She climbed on top of me and pinned me down with her nails digging into your chest and took what she needed from me, thighs pressing in against my hips and her cunt hot and slick around me, and it was only the insistent shriek of her rusty comm system that made her crawl out of bed and finally throw me out.

She was cutting it a bit close. I barely made it back before her rendezvous showed up.

The next time you saw her, you wouldn’t let me up. I understand. Our girl certainly kept you busy. Maybe that’s why you didn’t question it when she kissed you like that, but I felt it even down there in the depths of you; I felt the weight of that kiss and you did not and I wanted you gone, in that moment, like I never have before. But you wouldn’t let me, and you didn’t understand, so I could do nothing. She kissed you, and you did not question it, and then she carved out a space for herself inside your bones and wrung ecstasy from your penitent’s body like the demon they say she is. You left her before I even had a chance.

And here I am again, kneeling in the grit and gravel in the desert somewhere at the arse-end of the universe, her hand at the back of my skull and her cries ringing in my ears. Later, if I’m careful, I’ll get her to lie down with me, not out here in the dirt and dust but on the bunk in her shuttle, cramped as it is, and I’ll sit behind her and pull her head down to my shoulder and hold her as she gets herself off on my fingers. The curve of her thigh is a beautiful thing, Gideon, that you still cannot appreciate, because you cannot get your head out of your mission logs long enough to actually take in the gift she is giving you. You have only ever seen the Commander, the insurrectionist who is tougher than anything we have ever known, but I rest my hand on the fullness of her hip and I feel the softness of her against my body and I am selfishly glad that she saves this just for me, in the moments between oblivion when I am adrift and mad with longing and she holds me down like an anchor, ties me to this body that will never really feel like mine.

Not that I’m complaining. Truly, I’m grateful. At least I’m still here.

So I have her head on my shoulder, and she’s turning to tongue at my neck, and I raise my free hand to her breasts to give her what she’s panting for, except she hisses and slaps my hand away and bears down hard on my fingers buried inside her. She turns to kneel between my legs even before the waves of her climax pass and I can never say no to her, darling, and here is another thing I am selfishly glad about: you never get to see her like this. Her hair is a flood of copper and silver and rust and when she looks at me, my heart stutters like I am a much younger soul, ten thousand years ago and a billion light years away. I hold her gaze as she swallows me down. I owe her that much. To make up for who I am.

#

She says it’s food poisoning, and you’re a fool. You tell her to get herself together, and she growls and spits on the ground and you’re already half turned away so she has an easy game of it, wrestling you to the floor with your arms pinned between your bodies. You were always so blind. She shoves you out of the airlock like a sack of so much waste, and she’s lucky you have that much self-preservation instinct left, at least.

#

She offers me a cigarette when I come gasping to the surface. I refuse.

“He noticed, last time,” I say, and I’ve never lied to her before.

She has you tied to all four corners of her bed and a band of dark fabric over your eyes, and your nerves are still firing waves of sparks from the climax she teased out of you with her hands and lips and teeth. I don’t ask how she knew it was me.

There’s a lot of things I don’t ask.

Afterwards, when we’re both worn out and the recyc air is stale and heavy, she bites the constellations into my skin to watch the bruises disappear. I feed her chunks of bread and cheese and she licks my fingers clean. The fabric of her shirt clings to her shoulders, sticky and damp with sweat, but she refused to take it off. The sound of my breath echoes in the cramped space, hissing when her teeth break the skin. She regards her work, evidently pleased, even as it fades to nothing. When I reach out to brush her hair behind her ear, she sighs and leans into my palm.

“Promise me something,” she says, kissing the pad of my thumb.

“You know I can’t—”

“Promise me,” she says, her face impassive, “that if he catches me, you’ll end it.”

She’s so beautiful, Gideon, although you don’t acknowledge it. Her lips are dark and swollen, her brown skin flushed from heat and exertion and desire. There is that birthmark on the side of her nose, exaggerating the bump where she broke it, long before we met her. I brush my thumb along the sharp line of her cheekbone, cup her chin in my hand. She closes her eyes.

“I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I could not have written this fic without the inspiration and motivation from [gallpall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517957?view_full_work=true) and [blackrose_juri](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150341?view_full_work=true), who in my opinion wrote the definitive works on this pairing. I love them both dearly.
> 
> I am on [tumblr](https://darlingofdots.tumblr.com/)!


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